Nagini's Prize
by Volgini
Summary: Nagini wants one thing more than anything from her master, and she's not above deceiving him to achieve it. rated M for violence.


Voldemort rested apprehensively in his magnificent four poster bed. Nagini coiled entrancingly around the wooden feet of his furniture, her scales glittering like jewels in the firelight.

_Nagini, My sweet,_ Called the sorcerer from his resting place, lifting a hand slowly above him to observe it's near corpse-like qualities.

She raised her head carelessly to watch his form and decide whether or not she would come to him. Though she was cautious to anger her master, she was very aware she was in no danger. Casually, she replied;

_You've taken nest in a place so high, My Lord. How am I expected to reach you?_

Voldemort smiled softly, almost as if he found something indefinitely amusing about his servant's behavior. He sat upwards deliberately and cast his eyes down on her.

_Shame on you, Nagini,_ He breathed, _disobeying your master._

These were the words she wanted to hear.

She coiled slowly upwards and over the bed to her keeper's side. He extended an arm and she spiraled lovingly around it. In moments the wizard was engulfed in her scales and flesh, absolutely entranced by her movement and the sound she made as her skin scraped against his robes.

_It is my humble opinion,_ She said, _That __**I**__ am the master of __**You.**_

Voldemort shuddered as she brought her blunt face to his, brushing his smooth cheeks with her cool, liquid tongue. He took her great head in both his hands and kissed her squarely. She responded with a quiver pulsing down her spine, her great heaps of body tightening around his figure. He found his lips fit oddly against her mouth and forced himself into her jaw, enjoying the light scrape he felt from her nearly invisible teeth. He pressed his tongue firmly against the roof of her mouth and thoroughly examined the fangs that were hidden there. She reared suddenly bringing them down into full view of the conjurer. Merely the sight of her, raised and poised to strike, took his breath away.

_Nagini, My pet…_ He whispered, _You are a lovely creature, truly lovely._

She smiled inwardly, for she already knew this.

_Strangle me like a rabbit, _Voldemort demanded abruptly.

The snake did not have to be asked twice. She lunged for him and twisted about his torso, her body moving rhythmically like liquid jasper. The dark wizard found that his lungs were crushed beneath her weight, and the pressure on his chest was magnificent. He allowed her to continue to tighten and he felt more and more like her prey. The pain was sudden, ripping at his eyes and lungs as they screamed in the python's grip. Nagini was familiar with this routine, and slid slowly over him and looped through his legs. She let her intricate muscles pulsate against his groin and she slithered, never releasing the force she held over her master. Shaking, he let his mouth fall open and retched; having no oxygen for the shriek he so wanted to emit.

It was here that Nagini slowly freed her prisoner, aware of his failing organs and racing heart. She adored this dance, this gamble. His life was one she would gladly bet.

Voldemort collapsed backwards onto the bed, gasping. Every breath pained him and exhilarated him. He slowly rolled a dark eye to his companion.

_I want to be inside you, Nagini…_He whispered to her.

She stared at him and wryly slithered to his shoulder.

_Remove your robes, my love, _she requested gently, brushing the exterior of his ear with her dry tongue.

Voldemort waved his wand elegantly and his cloak came undone at the seams. He stood and the cloth dripped from his torso. Nagini, for the first time in a very long time, admired a body that was not her own.

She slowly rose to meet him and rubbed her head affectionately against his cheek.

_Turn yourself, My Lord,_ She said softly, _I wish to see all of your glory._

The sorcerer believed this unhesitatingly and turned, spreading his arms so that he might impress her with his stance. She looked to his grotesquely risen spine to his withered ribs and finally to his perfect, round, supple buttocks. This was what she had been waiting for. She would be inside _him!_

With the precision that only a predator of her experience could demonstrate, she dove at the posterior of her master, spearing his split expertly with the flat tip of her nose. Voldemort jarred, startled and confused. It was too late for him to struggle. The great snake wedged her jaw into his anus, whipping her body to give her momentum. Once her head was safely inside of his rectum, she had true velocity. She had been waiting for this opportunity for what seemed like eons. Her powerful spine propelled her forward into the dark treacherous tunnel of the Dark Lord's anal canal. Lucky for Nagini she was a practiced spelunker.

The moist tender walls of Voldemort's rectum spasmed against her scales, and she found it growing increasingly harder to press on. Outside, Voldemort was heaving in protest and fighting her massive coils. She hardly had to focus to restrain him, so slight was his physical body. She threw him to the ground and used the leverage to make the final lunge inwards. From where she was she could smell the Seminal Vesicles through the wall of his inner tissue: this is where she would strike. With the power of a hard punch she tore through the inner wall of his channel, blood filling her eyes and nose. She fought the rush of bodily fluids and the sickening scent of something being digested- her prize was just before her now. She grasped at her victim's prostate and sank her glorious fangs into it. Voldemort screamed in agony and in delight, falling into tremor of sick thrill and horror.

Nagini, satisfied, retreated with a geyser of liquid from the man's anus. In her blood-soaked mandibles, yellow juices trailing like egg yolk from between her fangs, was his prostate. Their eyes met for a maddening second before she raised her head and let the meat slide down her gullet. With a very satisfied smile the great snake waded through a pool of blood and tattered flesh to the door, looking back only once at her crippled, collapsed, and perpetually dying prey. She knew his pain would be unremitting; he could not die while she still lived.

She was going to make sure the Dark Lord never saw her again.

_Remember, love: _She said tenderly, _I am the Master of __**you.**_


End file.
